Apples
by uptightcrankyshadownet
Summary: Nikita, Alex and Birkhoff go apple picking. Short and fluffy. Nalex if you squint.


The sign is flamboyant, enormous, and painfully eye-catching. A blind man couldn't miss it, and Alex definitely doesn't. She turns to the pair, gesturing towards the notice with great enthusiasm. "Look! Do you see that?"

"Obviously." Nikita answers sardonically, dragging out the word. "Who wouldn't is the question."

The younger girl ignores her mentor's teasing barb as Birkhoff holds in his laughter. "Free apple picking! How often do you get that kind of chance? Let's go in!"

They notice Nikita's expression twist into one of worry, her mind instinctively listing out all the dangers, the factors, the escape routes and so on. Birkhoff glances at Alex, and quickly talks to his friend. "Things are a lot safer _now, _Nikita. You don't have to do background checks, or sweep the place first. Come on. It'll be fun. We can all kick ass if we need to anyway."

Not that Nikita ever really relaxes, her muscles slowly let loose of her previous tension as she nods, the three friends heading into the considerably expansive orchard. Birkhoff, for all his passion for videogames and sitting in front of a glowing screen all day, seems thrilled to be where he is. Alex's tapping on her phone, reading aloud from the screen about how to tell a good, tasty apple from the average ones. Nikita can't help but smile. It's been so long, since they've all been able to be carefree, to just enjoy the little things without constantly looking over their shoulders. It feels good.

There are baskets neatly arranged on a table a few metres in, with another rather garishly designed signpost pointing to the left, where there's an abundance of trees in the orchard. _ONE BASKET/PERSON. PICK TO YOUR HEART'S CONTENT._

Alex lets of a jubilant squeal, gleefully clapping as she runs forward and picks up what looks like a markedly larger basket. She scrambles off straight away, and Birkhoff and Nikita follow behind her, shaking their heads in amusement. Alex will always be a child at heart.

Soon, though, the simple, honest-to-goodness pure fun of apple-picking begins to infect all three of them. Alex is running around tree to tree, grabbing the most suitable apple she sees first and immediately running off to cover the area; Birkhoff carefully inspects every tree and competes with Alex on who has chosen better quality apples every ten minutes; and Nikita demonstrates her agility and grace by swinging herself up onto the tree branches, making a point to grab the best apples at the topmost levels, yelling down to Alex and Birkhoff and challenging them to join her up there. In the end, Alex ends up being propped on Nikita's shoulders to grab a particularly delectable-looking piece of fruit, and nearly topples over choking from laughing after Birkhoff makes a series of faces from where he stands. Laughter and teasing echoes around them, livening the atmosphere a fair amount. It's an hour of unadulterated enjoyment where they concentrate on nothing except apples, trees, and each other.

Before long, their baskets are filled to bursting, faces flushed, sweating profusely and absurdly euphoric. Nikita places a twenty-dollar bill in the tipbox left on the table, carting off their eventual haul. Alex and Birkhoff squabble all the way to the main road as they begin walking back to the little bungalow they've rented for their country visit, and the argument can't help but make Nikita chuckle as she listens.

"I got fifteen apples, you loser." Alex proclaims triumphantly. "_Ha._"

Birkhoff sniffs noncommitably, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well, I got twelve and they're _better _than yours."

"They're tiny."

"Only one is. All of yours are average-sized, and mine are all going to taste better anyway."

"Oh, please. Spare me. Mine are going to be the sweetest. And juiciest. And freshest. And-"

"And," Nikita enters the conversation without being invited. "_I _got sixteen and they're delicious _and _huge. I win."

"You weren't even in the running! No fair!" Birkhoff exclaims, offended, as he pretends to pelt one of his apples at Nikita. The same thing carries on until they get home, all three in high spirits.

The moment Nikita locks the door behind her, Birkhoff makes a show of falling flat onto the living room floor, groaning about how his feet are falling off from all the walking and climbing. "I can't move another step."

Alex yawns. "Okay." And with that, she simply sits down beside him and closes her eyes, falling asleep within seconds. Nikita stares at them, unimpressed. "I thought we were making apple pie?!"

"Later…" Birkhoff drawls, vaguely patting an area next to him. "Go sleep." He turns over and begins snoring, and finally Nikita gives in, pressing close to Alex, letting the warmth of her body mix with her own.

It's a singularly soothing tranquility that blankets the house as the only sound heard is the mixed breathing of three drained but contented souls.


End file.
